


Never Go Home Again

by mrasaki



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Back-dated work, Character Study, Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrasaki/pseuds/mrasaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was really no way to truly go back home, not when home was an abstraction burdened with complexities of pain and unhappiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Go Home Again

The last and only time Leonard had been in Riverside, he’d been hungover and running away from his life, on a hop, skip, and jump from Georgia and transitioning through Riverside on his way to San Francisco. He hadn’t been in any condition to notice the place beyond a brief impression of _what a burg_. Now that he had more time to take a leisurely gander around, he was more inclined to change his assessment, though he suspected much of that had to do with the years spent in space: the flat fields and hazy blue sky and the familiarity of black tarmac now exotic, and the wild rainbows of nebulas and alien planets mundane.

“Down that road. That’s where I drove my dad’s car off a cliff,” Jim said, pointing.

“Watch the road,” Leonard said, catching a glimpse of a barred gate surrounded by barbed wire and dirt as they zipped by.

“Why do you always say that?”

“Because you’re so busy pointing out the sights that— _shit!_ ”

“Whoa,” Jim said under his breath, as he steered the hover car back into its lane.

“No wonder you drove your dad’s car off a cliff,” Leonard muttered, and Jim laughed, that tightness in his neck and jaw that he’d had since they’d crossed the state line into Iowa, easing just a little. Leonard was glad to see it. He hadn’t ever gotten the hang of making Jim relax but he didn’t think he did too bad, in general. Though most of the time it was accidental.

The siren arose in a wail behind them, and the flashing of red and blue lights filled the mirrors. Jim glanced into the mirrors and cursed. His fingers clenched on the steering wheel and Leonard thought for a panicked moment that Jim was going to make a run for it before the car veered onto the shoulder and came to a jerking stop.

“Jim…” Leonard warned, just as the tall, black-suited police officer peered into the window.

“Citizen,” the officer said, “Do you know how fast you were going?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Jim replied, his jaw jutting in that way Leonard knew meant trouble was soon to follow. For fuck’s sake. “ _Jim_ …” Leonard hissed, sidelong, readying to jab Jim hard in the side if need be.

The metal grille of the officer’s mask seemed to peer at them, menacingly. Then, after a pause, “Your name?”

“Kirk, James Tiberius.” Bitten out, terse and angry as Leonard had ever heard him, even in the early days of Academy when Jim had been adjusting from a careless civilian life to the rigors of strict military hierarchies and discipline. What _was_ it with Jim and authority, anyway? Leonard half-expected the officer to demand that Jim step out of the car, and they’d spend the rest of their leave in the clink.

Instead, the officer straightened in surprise. “ _Kirk_?”

Jim was curled into himself, as if in readiness for a fight. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The officer pulled off his helmet, revealing a darkly tanned face and a wide grin. “Fuck me, it’s Jim Kirk. Do you remember me? You made my rookie days a living hell.”

“I made lots of people’s lives a living hell,” Jim replied. Leonard couldn’t see his face, turned as it was facing out the window, but he thought he could detect the beginnings of a smile. “Hey, Officer Korie. How’s it going?”

“Not bad, not bad, until bad ol’ Jim Kirk came rolling into town at high noon, speeding as usual. You got any speeds other than ‘breakneck’ or ‘suicidal’?” He grinned and leaned in the window enough to punch Jim in the shoulder. “What’re you up to out here?”

Jim laughed. “On a roadtrip, visiting the old place.”

“Heard you made captain of a _starship_ , of all things. Hope you don’t drive it like you drive on land.” He peered into the car, his friendly words belied by his keen study of the interior that finally landed on Leonard, and raked him up and down. Leonard stiffened, feeling suddenly like he’d been caught red-handed committing a felony. He was suddenly more sympathetic to Jim’s antipathy to authority, if this man’s calm suspicion had colored his childhood.

The man continued to study Leonard as their conversation continued on an easy keel— _how’s your mom? Good. Where’s she living now? New Providence colony. How long you planning on staying in town? Just the afternoon._ Simple just-passin-the-time polite talk, meaningless, light under the buzzing tension that rolled off Jim and made Leonard’s own muscles stiffen in sympathy.

“So I got a proposition for you, _Captain_ James T. Kirk,” Officer Korie said, turning his disconcerting gaze back to Jim. “How about I let you off with a warning, and you drive like normal people do. We don’t have warp speed down here.”

Jim’s laugh pealed bright and false. “Right. Sorry.”

“Uh huh. Stay out of trouble, Kirk.” _I’ll be watching you_ left unsaid, but crystal clear.

As the officer’s boots crunching in the gravel faded away, Leonard asked, “You okay, Jimmy?”

Jim visibly shook himself, then reached forward for the ignition. “I didn’t come here expecting things to be easy, Bones.” He added in a mutter, “Though I’ll never get used to being famous.” Leonard could only look at him with mute sympathy, knowing what Jim had left unsaid, that he could empathize with out of the depths of his own experience. There was really no way to truly go back home, not when home was an abstraction burdened with complexities of pain and unhappiness. Home was—home was the Enterprise, out in the clean, uncomplicated depths of space.

“Stop looking at me like I just lost my puppy,” Jim said sharply, and with a flick of his wrist the engine roared to life again.  


**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in May 2011 for rubynye's prompt (Star Trek Reboot -- Kirk/McCoy -- shuttlecraft or hovercar -- "Sunday drive") over at the Rapture in Mid-air comment fest.


End file.
